Love in the shadows of war

The kingdom of Vaeloria gleamed under the sun, its spires glinting like shards of crystal against the sky. Inside the palace walls, the heart of the court was silent in a way few noticed: Princess Aarya.

 Blind since birth, she had grown to see the world not with her eyes, but with her mind and heart. Though her father, King Devran, kept her from learning arms or battle for fear of her safety, she devoured knowledge, her mind sharp, her spirit unyielding. She wandered the quiet corridors and gardens, her presence a whisper more than a spectacle, yet all who met her spoke of her brilliance.

Across the northern mountains, Prince Arin of Kyren had a mission: infiltrate Vaeloria, gather intelligence, and ensure the downfall of its defenses. Disguised as a simple soldier, he entered the kingdom, unassuming and unnoticed. But his skill quickly made him indispensable. Within weeks, he rose through the ranks, admired and celebrated as the kingdom’s greatest warrior. Rumors of his valour reached even the ears of the royal court.

Curiosity drew Aarya toward him. She had rarely ventured into the court, preferring the solace of her garden and library, yet tales of this mysterious warrior intrigued her. Disguised as a common village girl, she sought him out, claiming she wished to learn archery and combat. Arin welcomed her, unaware of the truth.

Under the shade of ancient oaks, by the glimmering waters of the palace lake, he taught her the art of the bow and the subtleties of strategy. She moved with a grace that surprised even him, her other senses compensating for the absence of sight. Hours became days, days became weeks, and slowly, a bond grew between them.

She loved the warmth of his laughter, the quiet patience in his guidance. He admired the fire in her soul, the clarity of her mind, the courage that shone brighter than any armor. Yet each kept a secret: she never revealed her royal identity, and he never spoke of his mission.

One evening, as the sun bled red across the horizon, Aarya dressed him in a finely woven cloak she had borrowed with her maid’s help, adjusting it meticulously around his broad shoulders. Her fingers brushed against the fabric with care, a small gesture of intimacy she did not yet recognize as love. He smiled at her, unaware of the weight in her touch.

Then came the night before war. Arin, torn between duty and the love he had found in her presence, penned a letter:

"I am not who I seem. My kingdom is at war with Vaeloria. Please, leave before it is too late. Trust me, I will finish this war and come to you. Stay safe till then"

He entrusted it to the address she had given him, a simple house where she claimed to stay. But fate intervened. The letter never reached her. The palace was in chaos; her father had gone to the front lines, the kingdom teetered on the brink, and no message could reach her.

The next morning, Vaeloria fell. The king was slain. And now, Princess Aarya, the blind daughter, stood alone. She donned her father’s armor, gripping the bow Arin had taught her to wield, and led her soldiers into the battlefield. Every command she gave, every arrow she lost, was a testament to the hours spent under his guidance.

Arin watched from the enemy lines, his heart breaking as he saw her: fierce, determined, unstoppable. He tried to reveal himself, tried to halt her hand, but the tide of destiny was cruel.

When their paths finally crossed, neither fully recognized the other at first. She heard his voice, felt a familiar presence, but could not see him. He froze, seeing the girl he loved now standing as the enemy’s hope.

The final moment came swiftly. She aimed, her arrow finding its mark by the sound of a bell rung in front of him by her soldiers. It pierced through him. He screamed, a sound that tore through her chest. Panic surged within her, yet she could not turn back. She retreated, leaving the battlefield behind, running through rain-slicked paths to the palace, trembling, heart shattering.

Inside, her maid approached quietly, holding a folded parchment. "Princess… this came for you," she whispered, handing her the letter.

Aarya unfolded it with shaking hands. As she read Arin’s words, words meant to save her, words meant to bridge love across the chasm of war, she felt the cruelest truth of all. He had tried to protect her. She had trained under him, relied on him, and in the end, had unknowingly struck the man she loved.

She sank to the floor, the rain tapping against the palace windows like a mournful song. Blind, yet seeing more clearly than ever, she whispered his name into the empty hall, the sound swallowed by the storm outside.

In that moment, love and loss became one. Courage and heartbreak intertwined. And though the world outside continued, indifferent, inside the palace, a princess wept for the man who had given her strength, and for the life they would never share